(( Contains spoilers for the entire Book of the New Sun, including the fifth book that follows the tetralogy. They've been out for ages, but if you had plans to read the books soon, you may want to skip Thecla's application
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Silmeria read the application curiously. "I do not accept bribes, Lady Thecla, and a description of Urth would not change my decision. However, I would like to know what you are willing to say of it."
"Not Lady, but Chatelaine," I corrected her -- gently, as I thought. "On Urth, in the Commonwealth, exultant women are addressed as Chatelaine. Our society is ranked: first come the exultants, below which come the armigers, then the optimates, and beneath them the commonality, what some call the masses." I found myself reciting the ranks to her as though I were delivering by rote the day's lesson for my tutor, and I still a child in danger of a harsher correction than mere words. "But you must simply call me Thecla."
I did not know whom this lady might be, nor of what rank. It seemed strange for her to call me Chatelaine -- or Lady, either; incorrect though that might be, it was still an honorific. She might be of a higher race still, native to Yesod.
"You are not, then, of Urth? And how must I call you?"
"Thecla," Silmeria amended. "And you are correct. I am not of Urth, but of Asgard, a world of gods. We are ranked according to our strength and duties. Is your society similar?"
As the highest class of her world, was she level with a Creator? Or perhaps a queen on Midgard? Either was possible, as her energy was difficult to interpret.
I knew it could not be possible that Asgard had to do with the Ascians. One syllable did not an etymological linkage make. I limited my observation therefore to the remark: "Your way of sorting persons sounds more similar to that of a more warlike neighboring nation, against whom our Commonwealth has taken up arms. We are ranked according to our ancestry, all save the Autarch alone, who may come even from the common folk."
But she had not answered me to the full extent of my ignorance. "Is Silmeria a title, or Valkyrie?"
"No, I don't, but my profession has involved the creation of potions. Might you tell me more of it?" There is no harm in collecting diverse potion traditions when they present themselves.
But there is something else. "I can't help but note his unusual name. I am Professor Severus Snape."
"It comes from the mountains, and is made there by armaillis whose lives revolve entirely around the making of vacherin. They follow the cows which graze the high pastures," I told him.
((Vacherin is not mentioned in the Book of the New Sun, so I have taken my cue from Wolfe in using something that does exist in our world. The armaillis are also real, though they sound quite Wolfean.))
A flower addressed me. It had a sunny look about it, which I second-guessed; was this appearance meant to lull its prey? So unlike the deadly beauty of the averns wielded by monomachists upon the Sanguinary Field.
"Do you?" I tried not to sound wary, when I answered the flower. "How nice."
I turn to the plainspoken gentleman, and smile. "Do you prefer a different flavor of theology? I can posit the opposite as easily. Or do you mean that all theology is nonsense? We may refer to history rather than mythology. An anecdote from the life of Ymar the Almost Just, perhaps?"
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I did not know whom this lady might be, nor of what rank. It seemed strange for her to call me Chatelaine -- or Lady, either; incorrect though that might be, it was still an honorific. She might be of a higher race still, native to Yesod.
"You are not, then, of Urth? And how must I call you?"
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As the highest class of her world, was she level with a Creator? Or perhaps a queen on Midgard? Either was possible, as her energy was difficult to interpret.
"I am Silmeria Valkyrie."
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But she had not answered me to the full extent of my ignorance. "Is Silmeria a title, or Valkyrie?"
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But there is something else. "I can't help but note his unusual name. I am Professor Severus Snape."
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((Vacherin is not mentioned in the Book of the New Sun, so I have taken my cue from Wolfe in using something that does exist in our world. The armaillis are also real, though they sound quite Wolfean.))
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"Do you think, perhaps, you would be able to get some?"
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"That is in the hands of those who brought me here and gave me a material form."
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"Do you?" I tried not to sound wary, when I answered the flower. "How nice."
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